masking a mask

At the end of the day

I reach for my face

and my worn out mask comes off to reveal.

My true skin,

my true color

 as does the snake when it sheds its skin.

I show genuin kindness to others

because everybeing

human, plant, animal, even fungi

diserve a bit of kindness,

A mosal of love.

But myself well that's a different story

I was not ment to be happy or loved

my job is to mearly satisfy others,

to carry the world on my shoulders,

to be the shoulder you cry on when

no one else is around

even though you never noticed

me before.

I may not have children

but I give all I can to my children

even though I know they may never

acknowlege my kindness,

or repay my kindness,

and the most heartbreaking

is I wish they will comprehend to do

as i have to the rest of the world

my mask of optimism not only covers up

my sadness but my dispair.

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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